She Whom Thanatos Adores
by Quaxo
Summary: (Updated 12-20-02) Severus Snape was raised to be the perfect Victorian lady, something she definitely was not; she is forced into marriage to Cassius Malfoy, father to her original match Lucius Malfoy. When tragedy strikes again, what shall she do?
1. Chapter One

This was done originally as a part of a random challenge (by Martian Housecat I believe.) to make Severus Snape a woman, but not change his name. I suppose it doesn't matter, since no one else answered the challenge, I probably could have changed her name to Severine (French feminine form of Severus), but where would the fun be in that?  
  
She Whom Thanatos Adores,  
  
Chapter One: Wednesday's Child  
  
  
  
One look at that sharp face, and Albus Dumbledore, recently appointed Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, knew he had trouble. Stubbornness was engrained in the set of her jaw, and the way that her dark eyes were mere slits, eyeing everything with a distrust that could be considered arrogance. Her heavy ebony black hair was pulled tightly into a braid at the base of her head, which trailed down to behind her knees. Perhaps if she did not have that distinct unpleasant aura around her she could have been considered cute.  
  
He took his eyes off of her as the ceremony began; losing himself in the excitement that filled the air at every Sorting ceremony.  
  
"Snape, Severus!" Professor McGonagall, the latest staff addition, cried out.  
  
He was shocked when the troublesome young girl ascended to the stool. Minerva looked about to question her, but the girl's icy gaze seemed to stun her, as the girl delicately put on patched hat.  
  
Severus was such an odd name for a girl he pondered after the ceremony (Severus had been sorted into Slytherin). It was the name of Roman Emperors, not a mere slip of a girl dressed in what was undoubtedly her grandmother's Hogwarts uniform.  
  
He knew who the Snapes were, although not much as they were a secretive lot. He'd gone to school with the girl's grandparents, and had taught the child's parents. Antonia Vespillia had married Marcus Snape, and they had created the tiny girl sitting alone at the Slytherin table. They had died, tragically, when the girl was young, struck by a muggle car when they'd had the bad fortune to apparate into a busy muggle thoroughfare.  
  
The girl's upbringing had obviously been under her grandparents' ideals. He doubted Antonia; a jolly Hufflepuff if he remembered correctly, would have subjugated her daughter to the rules and regulations of the Victorian wizarding era.  
  
His infirmary matron, Poppy Pomfrey, entered with a disgruntled look on her face, and took the seat to the left of him.  
  
"School has not even begun, and already I've had to tend wounds." She snarled as she battered her baked potato with a fork. "Between first years! That's what makes it so appalling."  
  
"That Severus Snape is going to be a devil for trouble," She said, and Albus started. He had only been half listening, and the convergence of the two subjects he'd been dividing his attention between startled him.  
  
"How so?"  
  
"She broke Sirius Black's nose and bruised him fairly well. Apparently he told her that she wasn't allowed in their compartment because she was a girl, she responded by punching him in the face, and then kicking him while he was on the floor." Poppy shrugged. "I never knew how sharp my mother's old high-heeled boots were. That boy will think twice before challenging her again."  
  
**********  
  
Albus sincerely wished that what Poppy had said were so, as not but four days after the sorting Sirius Black and Severus Snape were in his office for, as Minerva tersely explained, frequent fighting. There had been, it seemed, six fights in the last few days, and the last one had taken place in the middle of Minerva's first year transfiguration class.  
  
Mr. Black was slouched in his chair, his face pale and frightful. Apparently he had not included the possibility of having to see the Headmaster when he threw his pincushion at Severus. Miss Snape was idly flipping the tail end of her braid in her fingers, her face indifferent, which matched the unconcerned look in her eyes. Her legs were crossed, and he could see the infamous boots that had left a sharp outline on Sirius' face.  
  
"You two have been assigned no less than a month's worth of detention, not to mention having cost your respective houses near eighty points. Yet this still does not deter you." He frowned deeply at them. "I have informed your parents of your chronic disobedience, and I expect that their responses will arrive by tomorrow's mail. Now please return to your classes."  
  
If anything, Sirius Black paled even more, as he mumbled apologies and speedily fled his office. Severus, he was displeased to note, was seemingly unaffected by this pronouncement. She merely dropped her braid, stood, and departed as quietly as she had come.  
  
**********  
  
The next morning at breakfast he was frustrated to note that he was anxiously awaiting the arrival of the Howlers. It was wrong, he told himself, to take pleasure in a student's punishment.  
  
Sure enough the Howlers did come. Sirius decided not to wait, and immediately opened the envelope, and the shrieking of Glenda Black filled the hall.  
  
Severus, however, quickly departed the Great Hall, letter in tow. He found himself standing and following behind her. He lost her for a moment, unsure as to where she would have headed after exiting the Great Hall, but he heard the voice of Victoria Snape echoing through the halls, and used it to guide him to the girl's hiding place.  
  
Quite naturally, Severus had chosen to make use of the second-floor girl's bathroom. It was a good choice, not only was it out of the way from the Great Hall, but even if someone did hear they'd think twice about entering Moaning Myrtle's water closet. It seemed that Severus had also taken precautions to ward the doors from interlopers, for while he could hear Victoria Snape's voice, he couldn't understand what she was saying. The tone was quite evident, however. It was venomous, too poisonous for the fairly gentle letter he'd sent home.  
  
A moment after the silence had finally come was when Severus exited the lavatory. He had expected tears at such a nasty confrontation, but Severus seemed no more affected than she was by anything else. She was in a constant state of apathy it appeared. It concerned him that an eleven year old could ever be so cold.  
  
***********  
  
He did not see Severus grace his office with her prescence for another five years. She seemed to have mellowed out, or at least become prudent enough to fight her battles when no one else was looking.  
  
She proved herself to be incredibly bright. She was in the top five scorers in all her classes by the end of every year. She'd quite surprised everyone when she did not take Divination, the traditional girl's course, and had opted instead for Advanced Extracurricular Potions. It seemed that the perfect lady image that Victoria Snape tried to impress on her granddaughter simply had never taken.  
  
In all honesty the girl did not have the features of a Victorian beauty. Her skin was not the preferred rosy pink, but startling shade of pale that contrasted sharply with her ebony black hair and eyes making her an ideal muse to any Gothic writer. The girl's sharp scientific mind would have been out of place in Victorian society, where she would be expected to be only interested in drawing and finding a suitable match.  
  
He encountered her late one night while on a midnight stroll. He'd heard pants and grunts and he'd followed them, expecting to find something very different than the sight that greeted him in the normally unused secondary potions classroom.  
  
Someone was fencing, as he peered through the window in the door. They wore the traditional gray suit and mask, and in the candlelight their sword flashed with their rapid movements. There was no answering clatter of swords, merely a soft thump of the blade hitting a dummy.  
  
He opened the door and immediately the fencer froze and then turned to face him. A gloved hand came up and unfastened the latch, revealing a face he did not expect. The dark eyes of Severus Snape looked back at him challengingly. He did not recognize her out of her regular dress: a corset and long dress.  
  
He also did not expect the dark rings that circled her eyes. There were signs of fatigue and stress all through her body. The flush on her cheeks from exertion was the only color on her paler than normal face.  
  
"Quite admirable dueling technique, Miss Snape." He said, lifting an eyebrow. "May I ask who taught you?"  
  
Severus eyed him warily, looking for deception. She frowned slightly, then set her foil against the wall and began to take off her gloves.  
  
"My Grandfather, I was young when he died, so my technique is not that refined." She said lazily, putting her gloves into a thin belt around her waist that carried her wand. It was then that he caught a flash of gold on her finger, more specifically, a wedding band. He tried to hide a frown at that.  
  
"I'm afraid that Hogwarts is not the place to polish it." He took the foil from the wall, shrunk it down to the size of a cocktail spear and put it within one of his many pockets.  
  
She gave him her standard passive look, but she had trouble hiding the disappointment in her eyes. If it weren't for the fact that there really was a strictly enforced regulation of no blades over three inches except for use in Potions, he probably would have let her keep it. She was quite good, no matter how she professed otherwise.  
  
"You may collect it from me when you return home for the summer."  
  
If anything she now had a wounded look. He did not press, for the girl did not seem willing to speak yet. He would speak to her Head of House tomorrow about that wedding band.  
  
"Now, please hurry off to your dorm, your Head of House must be beginning to worry."  
  
She looked at him blandly, nodding, and then strode out of the room. Once more he was struck by her coldness. No child should be so cold, even if she was now sixteen.  
  
**********  
  
He decided to bring up the matter of the ring the next evening over a nightcap. Professor McKintock was a cheery older man, who taught Transfiguration, as well as now breaking in his replacement for next year. Young Professor McGonagall commented to him once that she could hardly believe McKintock was a Slytherin, she would have pegged him, with his innate and general **niceness** as a Hufflepuff. When McKintock informed her of his spying days during the war against Grindlewald the look on her face had been priceless.  
  
Professor McKintock shuffled in, running tired hands through his thick salt- and-pepper hair. He smiled genuinely at the Headmaster and took a seat by the fireside. He accepted gracefully a cup of steaming Early Gray in a blue china cup.  
  
"And why did you call me here today, Albus?"  
  
"Am I that predictable, Geoffrey?" Albus said mildly, as he added lemon and six sugar cubes to his own cup of tea.  
  
"No, merely a Gryffindor." Geoffrey said mildly as he set his tea down on the coffee table between them. "Now, what would you like to speak to me about?"  
  
"One of your students, Severus Snape, more specifically the wedding band around her finger."  
  
Geoffrey looked sad for a moment, as he ran his fingers through his hair again.  
  
"She was engaged at three to Lucius Malfoy, a third-year Slytherin if you remember. However, Cassius received another, more lucrative offer from the Arquettes, whose daughter's original betrothed died in an accident. The Arquettes have more money than the Snapes, and there proved to be complications in Severus being able to hold up her end of the bargain." Geoffrey seemed even older as he talked. Albus too felt a surge of pity for the girl, who would be unable to bear children of her own. "Cassius broke the contract with the Snapes, or I should say, changed it." He looked grim now. He had reason; Cassius was an old foe from when they were still contending with Grindlewald, and neither of the men had doubts that there was a large portion of Malfoy money backing the latest threat: Lord Voldemort. "Instead of marrying Lucius Malfoy, she'll now marry Cassius. She's fortunate, considering she's barren, to have any proposals at all. Cassius was well within his rights to simply abandon the girl."  
  
It was a sad truth that while the wizarding world in England held itself as one of the most highly advanced of all cultures, that a woman who could not contribute to the next generation was treated with scorn akin to that was held for squibs, the mad, and muggles. Some of the greatest witches and their works had been discredited for centuries for the mere fact that for all their power and intelligence, they could not pass it on in children of their blood.  
  
"You don't think it was done out of affection for the girl."  
  
"The official reason, he states in the society section of Witch Weekly was that he'd fallen in love with the girl himself, and he thought his son needed a motherly influence. When he realized she'd never get another match, he decided to act on his feelings and he proposed to her." Geoffrey snorted. "Useless tripe, he wants her money."  
  
"I doubt Miss Snape believes a word of it either."  
  
"No, she's a smart girl, unfortunately." Geoffrey sighed again. "I've received notice of her removal from next year's classes."  
  
"He means to make her his wife immediately then."  
  
"Unfortunately."  
  
They were rudely interrupted by an out of breath Lyle Evans, that year's Head Boy, who burst in quite unexpectedly.  
  
"Sir, something's happened out to the Whomping Willow."  
  
**********  
  
It was a bloody mess, quite literally. At Lyle Evan's breathless message, all three of them had run out to the willow tree to see Severus Snape and Sirius Black engaged in a very serious duel. They'd first engaged in fisticuffs, judging from Sirius' split lip and Severus' cut cheek. Jennifer Potter and Peter Pettigrew were trying to hold the two of them back, but so far were dismally unsuccessful and only had two bloody noses to show for it.  
  
"Crucio." Severus hissed. Her hair was coming out of its tidy braid, her face fixed with a mask of pure hatred and fury, and the murky sky behind her made her seem like a demonic incarnation.  
  
Sirius Black fell to the ground and wailed in agony. It was fortunate for him that Severus had cast the spell weakly, and luckier still that her head of house tackled her to the ground, where she stayed, limp as a rag doll. The spell was broken, and with a minimum amount of damage.  
  
"What is going on here?" Albus tried not to roar in fury.  
  
"Sirius led Snape out to the Whomping Willow, sir." Jennifer Potter said, ducking her head. "She met up with Remus in his -- 'other' state." She sent a wary glance at Geoffrey, who seemed not to notice as he hefted his catatonic student up off the grass.  
  
"She didn't get bit, Jennifer pulled her out in time." Peter chimed in from his place beside Sirius.  
  
"I want you ALL in my office," He checked his watch, noting that it was a quarter to one in the morning. "At one o'clock. Go clean yourselves up."  
  
The Gryffindor students quickly headed in to wash up. Geoffrey remained over Severus, whom he was having trouble dragging inside. She had yet to reawaken from her stupor. The shock of meeting up with a werewolf, as well as casting an unforgivable must have taken the energy right out of her.  
  
He frowned at the girl. He had suspected she'd known one or two of the unforgivables, but he'd hoped against it. He realized that it was not a young girl that Geoffrey was trying to revive, but a woman, and she would have to be one, especially now that she was marrying Cassius Malfoy.  
  
"You grab her arms." He said, as he came around and grasped the limp form by the ankles. Geoffrey nodded and wrapped his arms under her arms and hauled her up. Together they headed back to the castle.  
  
It was when they were almost at the entrance that Severus stirred and he dropped her feet immediately. She came to and stood unsteadily on her own. Leaning heavily against her head of house they made it the rest of the way to his office.  
  
He was distracted from his scrambled thoughts as the tired Gryffindor quartet trooped in. Severus seemed not to notice them as she had suddenly devoted her attention to the tail end of her braid. For some reason this irritated him profusely.  
  
"Miss Snape, if you could please deign to give me your attention." He found himself snapping. The girl looked up in surprise, and dropped her braid. She looked at him as distrustfully as a stubborn mule its new owner, through her thick coal black eyelashes.  
  
"Now, I would like an explanation for tonight's events."  
  
Immediately voices were talking left and right. He slammed his hands down on the desk in frustration, returning the room to order. He looked to Lyle Evans, who hesitantly began to speak.  
  
"Well, sir, I was out on my night patrol, and I heard a shriek out to the forbidden forest. I headed out to investigate. I saw Jennifer stumble out with Severus, who immediately lunged for Sirius. I came here immediately to fetch you, Headmaster."  
  
Albus turned to Peter Pettigrew, who could be trusted to tell most of the truth in these situations. The smaller boy flushed deeply.  
  
"Sirius told Severus the entrance to the Shrieking Shack. He said it was a prank." He added weakly.  
  
"It is most definitely not one I find humorous." Geoffrey bit out.  
  
"Nor do I." Albus turned an icy glare toward Sirius. "Would you care to explain ANY of the humor in this situation, Mr. Black?"  
  
"She's a Death Eater." Sirius hissed, sinking lower in his seat. He shifted a sideways glare at the girl who made no protest to the statement.  
  
"That's a serious accusation, do you have any evidence." Geoffrey bit out.  
  
"It's bloody obvious!" Sirius snarled, "She knows more dark curses than anyone, which she proved tonight, and isn't it convenient that she's engaged to Cassius Malfoy." He sneered.  
  
Sirius didn't seem to notice Lyle Evans suddenly blanch starkly from his seat behind him.  
  
"If we were to be guilty merely by association, Mr. Black, then Mr. Evans would be quite guilty indeed." Albus frowned.  
  
"It's not just that, sir." Jennifer Potter interrupted, shaking her head of rumpled short black hair. "She's been --- following us around. We were concerned, not that it justifies Sirius' actions---" Jennifer paused to glare at her friend Sirius, who had the decency to flush with shame. "--- but we feared for Remus' safety."  
  
"Do you have anything to add, Miss Snape?" Albus said, looking over to the girl who had so far remained silent. She was staring with amazing focus at the palms of her hands. He coughed, and she jerked her head up and looked to him. Her face was cold.  
  
"No." she whispered, but the malevolent look she gave Sirius said that she had quite a bit she would like to say.  
  
"For your recklessness tonight, I'm deducting one hundred points Gryffindor, Mr. Black. For your timely response to a potentially lethal situation of a classmate not of your house, I assign five points each to Mr. Evans and Miss Potter." He looked over to the ever-silent Severus. "I trust that you will keep Mr. Lupin's unfortunate disability to yourself, Miss Snape?" The girl nodded sharply and stood.  
  
"Dismissed," Dumbledore sighed.  
  
Severus was the first to leave, her steps quick, as if she was trying her best not to run from the situation. Dumbledore noted that Lyle was right behind her, determination set in his shoulders. Curious to this development, he snatched up the Headmaster's mirror.  
  
Helga Hufflepuff, the first Headmistress of Hogwarts, created the Headmaster's Mirror in the first days of Hogwarts. She had been frustrated by the sheer amounts of trouble students could get into, and the impossibility of monitoring them all. It was fairly easy for students to hide in the numerous alcoves that riddled Hogwarts like Swiss cheese. The mirror merely pulled forth an image of the student or students one was looking for, and gave one a listen in on their current conversation.  
  
"Severus Snape."  
  
Immediately an image of the sharp-faced girl was pulled up. He was not surprised to note that Lyle Evans was with her. He was not prepared to see the way he had his arms wrapped possessively around her waist, or seeing Severus lean into his embrace, her head resting on his chest.  
  
"Why didn't you tell me?" Lyle murmured into her hair.  
  
"You'd leave." She whispered, her arms moving to tighten around him. Her face was removed of its habitual coldness and was now fearful.  
  
"You're betrothed to that rat Malfoy's father."  
  
"I don't want to be."  
  
"I don't understand. In the muggle world you wouldn't have to marry him. Arranged marriages have been out of style for almost a hundred years."  
  
"It's the not the muggle world, Lyle." Severus said bitterly. "I don't want to talk about it." She said firmly.  
  
Lyle reached down and caught her lips with his, and he banished the image and left the ill-fated couple their privacy.  
  
**********  
  
A large picture appeared in the Daily Prophet on June 22nd, announcing the happy marriage of Cassius Tarquinius Sextus Malfoy to Severus Alexander Lucretia Snape. Cassius looked his typical dashing self in dress robes of a deep forest green.  
  
Severus, too, looked beautiful, in a childish way. The corset she wore was cinched painfully tight, to give curves to the slender body that simply hadn't developed any significantly yet. If it hadn't been for the serious set of her face, there would have been accusations of cradle robbing. There should have been accusations, but they were stifled quickly by some generous donations from the Malfoy treasury.  
  
Lucius Malfoy, the ring bearer in this ceremony was giving his new mother a particularly nasty look. Severus was ignoring him as best she could, but her right hand often strayed to where she would have kept her wand.  
  
It had been a painful last day of class when she'd come in, preparing to turn in her wand. Her face had been as impassive as ever, but he felt the sheer amount of force she was using to keep it that way. She'd dropped the wand down on his desk stiffly, and refused to look at the smooth piece of ebony wood.  
  
"It is a shame to see one of Hogwarts' brightest leave in midst of her education." He'd sighed, picking up her wand, and cradling in his hands. He'd seen her cringe as he handled it.  
  
"There is nothing to be done."  
  
"I could refuse to let you leave, out of interest for you."  
  
"I doubt you have the money to press the claims of statutory rape." She'd sneered at him.  
  
He'd frowned at that. She was such a jaded creature. She was, however, unfortunately right. The accusations would fly if the Headmaster of Hogwarts were to deny Cassius Malfoy his child bride. He could not afford, for the good of the order, to be dismissed at a time so crucial to the war that was just beginning to brew.  
  
**********  
  
He did not hear from his lost student for another four years outside of occasional reports in the Daily Prophet. So he was quite surprised when he received a letter one morning bearing the Malfoy coat of arms.  
  
As he opened it he thought it to be the invitation to Lucius Malfoy's wedding. His bride was some girl graduating this year from Durmstag. It seemed unusual that he'd receive the invitation in the midst of the spring semester, however.  
  
The letter read as such:  
  
The Malfoy family wishes to invite you, Albus Dumbledore, to the blessing ceremony of:  
  
Jairus Thanatos Claudius Malfoy  
  
On Saturday, the eighteenth of February, at five o' clock at the Malfoy Manor.  
  
R.S.V.P.  
  
He pocketed the letter and made his way towards the Slytherin table. Lucius Malfoy, now a seventh year, sat at the head of the Slytherin table, as he was Head Boy this year. He was quietly murmuring with his fellow sevenths (undoubtedly planning something unpleasant for another house), when he approached.  
  
"I believe congratulations are in order, Mr. Malfoy?"  
  
Lucius could not hide the icy glare that quickly flashed through his eyes at him. Albus pretended not to see it. Lucius gave him a gentile smile, which was reminiscent to that of a snake.  
  
"Yes, my step-mother quite surprised us all with birth of little Jairus,"  
  
There was a muffled snicker somewhere down the table, and Lucius responded to it instantly with a sharp glare.  
  
"I believe a trip to visit your new sibling could be allowed this weekend."  
  
"That's very generous of you, sir. Thank you."  
  
**********  
  
The Malfoy Manor was a grand old dame, rich in decorative architecture. It was built upon the original ancestral home of the Tyler family, whose sole heir, Regina Tyler, married Henri Malfoy in 1814. Henri had brought his own sizable fortune and devoted a small portion of it on bringing the airy Renaissance-age cottage up to the nineteenth century.  
  
The interior of the house matched its outer splendor. Severus in her undoubtedly ample spare time had taken charge as the mistress of the house, and had rid the house of the cluttered elegance, in favor of simplicity. The floral wallpaper and wooden animal carvings had been removed and replaced with solid colors of burgundy, dark green, and cream.  
  
He was lead by a rather high-strung house elf into the ballroom of the mansion. It had been left untouched by its new mistress' hands, and shone with white marble floors and gold filigree coating the wall.  
  
There was a dais in the center of the room where Severus stood cradling her child. Lucius stood below her, a pretty blonde girl attached to his hip (obviously his fiancée). Cassius was milling about, playing the role of proud father to perfection.  
  
He made his way towards Severus, wondering how the years of playing devoted housewife had sat with the fiercely intelligent woman. He smiled benignly at the young Malfoy couple, and stood upon the small platform where Severus was devoting her entire attention to the little being in her arms.  
  
"Children are quite the miracle, are they not?" He remarked casually, and she jerked her head up with a start.  
  
"Yes, yes they are." She said softly, returning her intense and almost hunted gaze to her only child.  
  
"May I hold him?" He asked, and was mildly shocked by the distrustful glare he received for a mere moment before being melted into something docile.  
  
"Of course," she replied, handing over the child reluctantly. She eyed him nervously as he gently cradled the infant.  
  
Soon, however, Cassius came to his young wife's side and dragged her off to associate with some of their guests. Albus could feel her eyes on him, though.  
  
The child resembled his mother than he did any of the Malfoy family. He had a thick patch of black hair, and ebony eyes like his mother. The pale skin was a common trait amongst both Snapes and Malfoys, and out of personal preference, he attributed it to his mother.  
  
The child looked at him curious eyes, slightly squinted with concentration. He then proceeded to let out a loud wail. Lucius was immediately had his side, removing his younger brother from his arms, which only seemed to infuriate the child more.  
  
Severus had the child in her arms in a nanosecond. She jostled him gently, and then seeming to have the instinct of all mothers, took him off to another room to tend to one of two possible needs.  
  
The side room that Severus had made her exit into was conveniently located next to the punch bowl. Albus found himself a tad bit thirsty. He made his way across the crowded room of people and stationed himself conveniently next to the door, sipping a nice fruit punch with a slice of lemon.  
  
Victoria Snape and her grandson-in-law both passed by him without a word following after their granddaughter and wife respectively. Albus leaned casually by the wall, near the entryway, and if Victoria and Cassius decided to speak loud enough for him to hear then so be it.  
  
The two of them had ganged around Severus, who held Jairus close to her chest, her face as cold as the arctic winds. It was a defensive move.  
  
"You're spoiling the brat." Cassius scowled. "What kind of man will he be if you insist on mollycoddling him?"  
  
"Give him to the house elves; it's their duty to raise a child. You should be out there assisting your husband, instead of playing." Victoria said with disgust.  
  
"No." Severus said, the stubbornness he'd remembered from her childhood had yet to be broken.  
  
Cassius grabbed Severus by her free arm and threw her hard against the wooden paneling. She glared malevolently at her husband, but was too stunned from hitting the oak wall to stop her grandmother from taking her child from her arms.  
  
Victoria left promptly, a smile plastered on her face as she cuddled the infant, but she glared at him as she passed. Cassius soon followed with his arm firmly attached around Severus' waist.  
  
The rest of the blessing ceremony was not quite as interesting as the miniature drama he'd just seen that gave such a telling look at what went on beyond the closed doors of Malfoy Manor. In fact the only other interesting part of the day was when Severus stepped forward and blessed her child.  
  
Normally this would not have been a problem, had Severus been a fully trained witch. She was, lamentably, not.  
  
The blessing ceremony was one of the few cultural items that originated purely within English wizarding society. There was no actual charms used, it was merely an expression of hopes for the child, given by the grandparents, godparents, and the mother and father.  
  
The guests and family were predominately Slytherin party, as many of the blessings reflected. Jairus received blessings of Salazaar's cunning (Anne- Marie Lestrange, Godmother), Salazaar's intelligence (Anton Lestrange, Godfather), Salazaar's power (Cassius), and Salazaar's subtlety (Victoria).  
  
A murmur went through the gathering as Severus ascended the small stage. She gazed down within the cradle, and her face seemed to soften. A hand stole down to touch the child gently, before it returned with its counterpart to the edge of the bassinette.  
  
"I wish you a long, happy life." She murmured, and immediately Jairus kicked up blood curdling screech. Severus' face went the unflattering shade of curdled milk, as she fell back in shock from the child. Lucius was quick to catch her, as Victoria attended to the child, and Cassius explained to his guests that his wife was rather ill from the child birthing process still.  
  
It was an unfortunate sign, however, for a child to be so upset at a blessing of such good intents. It did not bode well for the newest addition to the Malfoy family.  
  
**********  
  
The head of Lyle Evans in the fireplace of his summer cottage rudely awakened Albus one night, a month and a half after the party at the Malfoy house. After fumbling for his spectacles, he arranged himself with dignity on the edge of his bed.  
  
"There was a raid on Malfoy Manor a few hours back." Lyle's face was sweaty, and his eyes slightly haunted, which was odd considering all the things he'd seen in his four years as an Auror and agent for the Order of the Phoenix.  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"Cassius Malfoy is dead, as well as his son." Lyle gulped and shifted the dark blue tie of his uniform.  
  
"Lucius?" Albus said, his stomach dropping slightly. Lyle only shook his head.  
  
"We had a green one on staff tonight, he panicked, and his curse went wild."  
  
"A harsh mistake to learn from."  
  
"He won't get opportunity, he's dead."  
  
"I assume that Severus still lives?"  
  
"Unfortunately." Lyle hung his head. "She threw McKay into the wall after the child died. She's being held as a suspected Death Eater. I just got through with questioning her."  
  
"I see."  
  
"I was wondering, if you might come down to talk to her? She needs someone, I think, for once. I'm not the person to give it, I've no doubt." Lyle looked to him pleadingly.  
  
"I'll be along directly."  
  
Lyle nodded with obvious relief, and removed himself from the flames. 


	2. Chapter Two

He entered the dark hallway, dressed in a set of presentable robes. Lyle met him, his face looking even grimmer outside of the firelight.  
  
"Thank you for coming." He said, before motioning him to follow.  
  
The halls seemed to loom with their minimal lighting, intended to subdue the guilty with fear. They were mildly disturbing even to him.  
  
He was lead down to the celled section where the inmates and suspects were kept.  
  
Suddenly, Lyle's back tensed in anger.  
  
"Get those awful things away from her." Lyle yelled at some lower ranking officer.  
  
Five dementor-shaped shadows quickly fled the scene. Albus hid the shudder that went down his spine at the sight of them as best he could. Lyle had thrown open the cell door, to crouch beside the figure curled up on the floor.  
  
He followed after Lyle, eventually taking the weakly struggling Severus from his arms. There was hurt on Lyle's face at her reaction to him.  
  
"Severus." He called softly, running fingers over sweaty hair. Her eyes were glazed, as if she were hallucinating.  
  
"Gngh." she moaned, and fell back limply into her arms. Her lips were tinged green with some digestible sedative, perhaps the only reason she hadn't been shrieking with five dementors feasting upon her agony.  
  
"Do you, perhaps, have somewhere a bit sunnier for her to awake in?"  
  
"I'll help you carry her." Lyle offered, picking up her feet, and Dumbledore was given déjà vu from the last time he'd been in such a situation with Severus, nearly five years ago. It seemed like ages from then to now, even in his ancient mind.  
  
They brought her up to Lyle's personal office, which was graced with a couch. Laying her out, his stomach knotted as he noticed the blood on the front of her dark gray dress. Lyle looked uncomfortable, and he made his decision.  
  
"Floo over and fetch some of Jamie's things, she'll tell you what to bring, being more versed in women's garments than you or I, and send them back over here, you are tired, and you need to rest after such a night. I can manage Severus."  
  
Lyle nodded again, relief once again evident to get away from the prescence of his ex-girlfriend.  
  
As Lyle disappeared, Albus fetched up a bowl of water and a rag with a swish of his wand. He began the process of cleaning her salt-streaked face and soothing the eyes swollen from too many tears. He wondered how many times Severus had allowed herself cry previous to this moment, and guessed not very many.  
  
Dark eyes suddenly flickered open, and stared at him with confusion. A soft smile suddenly graced her face, surprising him. She was still in the grips of the sedative it appeared.  
  
"Grandfather?" She said in a soft voice, reaching out to him with a faint hand.  
  
"No," He said, taking her thin hand and enveloping it in his own. "It's Professor Dumbledore."  
  
Her face became confused as she stared at him for a moment, before gazing at the ceiling. Her hand went limp and he let it fall.  
  
She continued to stare at the ceiling for at least another hour. Her face was blank, and she did not even seem to notice Lyle's entrance and exit. Her breath was shallow, rasping against her teeth at a steady rate.  
  
When she did stir, it startled Albus, who had begun to doze off. She had stood, and retrieved the set of robes from the top of Lyle's desk. She looked at him with a raised eyebrow, and he quickly turned away so she could dress.  
  
He could hear the rustles, as numerous small pearl buttons were undone. There was a 'wmph', as the wool dress fell to the floor. Then came minute clicks as hooks and eyes were separated, and the creak of the stiff fabric of a corset was relaxed.  
  
When he felt it was safe, he turned around. The robe was made for Jamie, and on Severus, a much taller woman, it looked more like a knee-length muggle dress. If it weren't for the wide sleeves it probably would have passed in the muggle world.  
  
It was odd to see Severus in any colors outside of blacks, whites, and grays. The bright cherry red looked out of place on her, and even more so on this occasion. She returned to the couch and sat, and stared at him.  
  
"I can get you inside the Death Eaters." She said after a moment. There was a steel-like quality to her face now, her eyes as sharp as diamond, and deadly.  
  
He was stunned, to say the least, at the proposition. He had expected tears. howls of agony for the child that she had so painfully produced whose life had ended too soon.  
  
However, he realized, this was Severus.  
  
"How?" He asked, even though a part of him felt he was taking advantage of a vulnerable woman. She had offered, he told himself, and they desperately needed any help they could receive against the Death Eaters.  
  
***(-I-)**(-I-)***  
  
Her abdomen ached, even five days after giving birth to her only child. The troublesome pregnancy and the difficult labor made it dangerous for her to ever try to carry another child. They'd removed her ovaries as a form of prevention.  
  
She didn't care for more children, she thought as she let Jairus suckle at her breast. Jairus filled the hole that had been her life. He was her light, and so she had named him.  
  
She ran her fingers through his fine hair, admiring the silken feel of it.  
  
Cassius had not been pleased, initially, at the thought of another child. He already had his heir, Lucius, and another child would only cause strife in the inheritance. He had made some hints her way of going out into the muggle world and having an abortion. However, when she'd mentioned that she was expecting at a tea party her mother had dragged her to, there was no way for him to dispose of it without scandal.  
  
The pregnancy meant that she had received a reprieve from her duty as a wife for thirteen months, a relief worth the eight months of strict bed rest.  
  
***(-I-)**(-I-)***  
  
Her first duty was to return to Malfoy Manor. She had to arrange the funerals (although Jairus' would receive significantly more attention than Cassius'.), and prepare the manor for a meeting with Lord Voldemort.  
  
She floo'ed over, despite Dumbledore's insistence that she rest up and give herself time to grieve. There was no time to grieve, not when there was so much to be done. She could grieve when the monsters that had started the machine that had killed her child were lying in their graves.  
  
She came out in the fireplace in the rear entrance hall. She brushed the soot from Jennifer Potter's borrowed robe. It felt uncomfortable, not having the many layers she was used to, yet in a sense it was liberating, as it was less restrictive than what she usually wore.  
  
Still, it would be best if she donned her accustomed garb. There would be less suspicion upon her acts if she wore the stifling corset and wool dress. She headed up the backstairs for no particular reason other than they were closer than the main staircase.  
  
She entered the third floor where the room Cassius and she had shared lay. The only entrance on the west wing to the master bedroom was through the nursery. She almost contemplated walking all the way down to the east wing and entering from there, but told herself that this was no time to be weak. She had a duty.  
  
She entered the nursery, trying not to look at the furniture that would remain empty from this day forth.  
  
"Oh, you are back." Said a voice with a thick Slavic accent. She turned to see Narcissa, Lucius' betrothed, carefully placing Jairus' toys into a crate. A quick scan of the room revealed that the pictures had been removed from the walls and sent away somewhere.  
  
House elves scurried about the room, magicking off the linens and clumsily disassembling the furniture.  
  
Narcissa appeared lost and uncomfortable.  
  
"Lucius say." Narcissa shook her head, "Lucius said that I should help the elves clean, maman."  
  
Part of her burned to shriek at the stupid girl, to tell the fool to quit the sanctity of this cherished room, the other to plead with the innocent bride to run as far from this family as possible.  
  
"I think the elves can handle it from here." She said frigidly, and Narcissa quickly left.  
  
She felt her body tremble with emotions that demanded that she give in. She refused to give.  
  
She heard someone crying, and she feared it was she for a split second, before identifying the origin of the sound emanating from the opposite corner.  
  
She turned, and her eyes fixed upon the source of the disruption. A house elf huddled in the corner, bawling and clutching a bottle of butter beer that it had scrounged up from somewhere. She hated it immediately.  
  
She stormed over to the corner, and the elf, named Noggy, looked at her and hiccupped. The currently drunken elf had been responsible for the care of Jairus after the blessing ceremony, and was grieving over the loss of the child. It infuriated her that the elf should grieve.  
  
She snatched the bottle and smashed it against the wall, and the elf squeaked in fear.  
  
"There will be no crying in this house." She hissed, each word measured and slow. "He's dead, and this is a fact of life. Tears can not change anything." He voice was rising in intensity and pitch, her body tensing as fury took over her thoughts. "If I can not cry then no one will!"  
  
The elf 'meeped' in fear and disappeared with a crack. Her target lost, she wheeled upon the other elves that were frozen in their spots as they stared at her.  
  
"Back to your regular duties! All of you." She shouted, and her orders were quickly obeyed, the clatter of the gate of the crib the only sign that they had been there at all.  
  
She stormed into the master bedroom, slamming the door behind her.  
  
***(-I-)**(-I-)***  
  
She entered the parlor later that night, where Lucius sat casually sipping brandy. He thought himself an adult now, nearly eighteen, and with his father gone. He was still a callow youth in her opinion. She may have been only three years older than him physically, but she felt ancient.  
  
"Severus." He acknowledged absently, not bothering to even look up from the Evening Prophet.  
  
She took a seat by the fireside, trying not to think of yesterday night when she had sat before the fire, her savior dozing in her arms.  
  
There was an image of Malfoy Manor on the front page, and gaudy headlines screamed about the innocent Auror slaughtered by the vicious Malfoy family. Only concern for this young junior auror, not a comment of the innocent child he had murdered. She shook herself. This would need to be taken care of, and Lucius was a natural choice. He was charming, and his charm would be the only way to protect the Malfoy fortune and standing.  
  
She would rather leave the Malfoy family to rot in its doings, but the Snape line was entwined with the Malfoy's fate through her, and out of tribute to her grandfather, she would find some way to cement the Snape family into history. She could not do so through heirs, and it would be a sorry way to end the line with her.  
  
For this, she would need Lucius' help.  
  
"They'll take everything, won't they?" she asked, feigning the fear of a foolish woman that she was supposed to be. Everything she couldn't be.  
  
Lucius folded the paper grimly, before looking to her.  
  
"Undoubtedly. If in the unlikely event they do not, then we stand to lose our position in the social world." He sighed.  
  
Lucius needed admirers; he needed to be fawned upon, and the loss of his social stature would be a devastating blow to his ego. Things were going well so far.  
  
"We'll have to delay the wedding, it would be inappropriate from many stand points." She said softly, and Lucius nodded in agreement, as he gazed absently into the fire.  
  
"You'll obviously have to renounce your father's actions, and Voldemort's cause. I'm sure he'll understand."  
  
Lucius stared at her, but she looked at him with naivety. He had supposed her ignorant of the Malfoy's more covert dealings, and she used his shock to her advantage.  
  
"Your father's will is null, naturally, and you'll be under suspicion."  
  
"It is not to late to transfer a considerable bulk of the money out of country." Lucius mused drearily.  
  
"It would only convince the public of our guilt." She said quietly.  
  
He glared at her hatefully, and she did not feign innocence this time. He knew what she had left unspoken, and he resented the fact that it would be the only way to come out with minimal damage.  
  
"You know I'm right, and you know that the trustees at Gringotts will say the same." She said, leaning back into the chair, and dropping the fragile façade that she'd held for the last few years.  
  
"Regretfully." He gritted out.  
  
"For you." She said mildly. "I stand to gain quite a lot." She gave a casual shrug. "I care little for what you choose to spend your allowance upon. Go about your usual business. I only demand two things; one, you let me go about my business equally uninterrupted." She let the sentence taper off; the enormity of what she was about to ask immobilized her tongue.  
  
"And?" He snapped impatiently as the silence dragged on.  
  
"Secondly, I want a meeting with Lord Voldemort."  
  
Anger shook Lucius' normally resolute features.  
  
"You cannot just demand --" He began softly, his voice harsh.  
  
"Invite him here for dinner, he is flesh and blood."  
  
"Not by much." Lucius muttered.  
  
"Still, he must hunger." She said nonchalantly. "And he will undoubtedly want to be assured of our position at his side after the remarks you will make to the Daily Prophet."  
  
"Crazy bint, you can't even own a wand, what gives you the right ---" Lucius snarled.  
  
"You forget yourself, Lucius," She snapped, glaring at him. Her lips curled up into a smirk, "You will watch your tone and your words with me, lest you like the idea of **working** for a living." She said smugly, enjoying the rage she saw on his face.  
  
He glowered at her fiercely for a moment, before looking towards the fire and resuming the sipping of his brandy.  
  
It was an admittance of defeat, and victory for her.  
  
***(-I-)**(-I-)*** 


	3. Chapter Three

She was alone in front of the small raised grave plot, which nestled the undersized coffin deep within its chilled stone embrace. This was how she had preferred it. Other mourners would have merely complicated it with their insincere grieving.  
  
She could hear, in the distance, the murmurs of the lone Daily Prophet reporter as they wrote out something on their pad of parchment. The story was not that important, and she was glad of it in a way. She didn't need pity.  
  
She caressed the small lock of ebony hair between her fingers, the only memento she had that the child she had carried for nine months had actually existed at all. Her mouth felt like it had been stuffed with ashes as she placed the precious strands back in her locket.  
  
There were footsteps behind her, but she ignored them, dismissing them as someone visiting another grave. Only when a white rose was tossed gently on top of the casket did she turn to see the new visitor to the tiny tomb.  
  
She would have recognized the carrot hair and emerald eyes anywhere. Lyle Evans: successful Auror, Hogwarts Head Boy of 1976, and ex-boyfriend. The first few months of her troublesome marriage she had entertained the thought of eloping like he had wanted. After some nights she would be on the verge of packing a small bag of clothing and snitching the nearest broom and abandoning Malfoy Manor for good.  
  
In the end she could not. Cassius would not take the theft of his property well, and he would be sure to punish the bandit extensively. Especially a muggle-born like Lyle. He would be stymied at every turn, and she could not see him living happily in some drudge job. Lyle had ambition to equal any Slytherin, and their infatuation with each other was less than its equal.  
  
"Dumbledore told me your new role." He said harshly.  
  
"You disapprove." She said flatly.  
  
"This isn't a game." He snapped. "You don't even have a wand, what makes you think you can do anything?"  
  
"I can listen." She replied calmly.  
  
"I can't dissuade you from this, can I?"  
  
"When have you ever been able to discourage me from anything?" She retorted coolly.  
  
He gave a long sigh.  
  
"I can't understand why you would **want** to ---"  
  
"And how is dearest Jamie and the baby?" She interrupted icily. He had the grace to flush at her question.  
  
"So you're doing this for revenge."  
  
"What else do I have left?"  
  
He looked at her then, and he could see that the young girl that he'd wanted to marry, and the mostly docile wife of Cassius Malfoy had disappeared. In those eyes that had alternated between cold and agonized, there was now nothing but hate. It was an all-encompassing revulsion for the world and all the creatures in it. He had seen a small flash of it that night at the Shrieking Shack as she dueled with Sirius Black, but now that unchecked spark had grown into an inferno that encompassed the globe.  
  
It pained him to realize that he felt guilty for placing her in such a situation, and that there was nothing he could do to make it right. He could not help her now, and perhaps he never had been able to.  
  
He left her at her vigil by the graveside of her child. a child who would be only six months older than his soon-to-be Harry. He could not imagine what it would be like to lose one of the few things good in his world. There was Jamie, the arrival of Harry, and his friends. They were his safe harbor when his job, a gruesome one already, became even bleaker. There were moments when he thought that it was quite possible that You-Know-Who and his squadron of Death Eaters would win the war, and then there would be no safe place for Jamie, who made the mistake of marry and spawning with a mudblood.  
  
Severus Snape was a ship without a safe port, and she was taking on water. He grimly realized that she would be another nameless death in this war.  
  
***(-I-)**(-I-)***  
  
Her first order of business was to go about becoming a full-fledged witch. She had already discussed this with Dumbledore, and it was agreed she would have to 'make up' the coursework she had missed (naturally on a faster paced schedule), and most importantly complete the exams she had missed. It was hard work, but labor she did gladly, after so many years of idleness.  
  
Right now, however, she realized she was only doing it to delay the inevitable, and her recognition of it annoyed her.. When had she become such a simpering weak creature? Honestly, for all the airs that Lord Voldemort put on he was merely a simple street thug. She had nothing to fear from ---  
  
Being a ruffian, she reminded herself, did not make his Avada Kedavra less deadly. She needed to make herself useful to him, currently she had the Malfoy fortune, and a quick look at the bank statements from previous months showed a considerable amount being removed by third parties unrelated, directly, from the Malfoy family account. She needed to convince him that the money was safer in her hands than Lucius'.  
  
She turned to the dressing table's mirror, checking to ensure that she looked her best. She dressed in heavy black satin, and a black veil covered her hair and forehead. She looked the part of the grieving widow. If the bodice was cinched a little tighter it wasn't immediately recognizable.  
  
She could do this, she told herself, and after smoothing another imaginary wrinkle in her skirt she headed downstairs in preparation for her Lord's visit.  
  
The house elves were scurrying about re-dusting the furniture and fixtures they'd done twice already. Others were clattering about the kitchen, preparing the evening's seven-course meal; she could smell the artichoke soup out in the foyer.  
  
Lucius looked at her with disgust as he stood patiently in front of the door. She had instructed him that he was not to attend the dinner, unless specifically asked. He undoubtedly suspected that she was plotting against him. and she was, but not specifically against him.  
  
She curtsied low to suppress the urge to jump when Lord Voldemort, one of the most feared wizards of the age apparated in front of them. Lucius bowed low to his Lord, and explained that he had business elsewhere this night, and if he could please be excuse.  
  
And just as Severus had hoped, Voldemort dismissed her stepson with a small flick of his gnarled hand. Lucius left quickly, and without reluctance. He obviously preferred the temperamental company of a pregnant Narcissa than the man he went to in the dark of the night.  
  
She led him to the sitting room and sat him close to the fire. He was dressed in an extremely heavy cloak, which signaled to her that he was easily chilled. It was early summer, but Malfoy Manor was always slightly chilly due to the moist stones that composed the walls of the house. A low fire was going in the grate, and she subtly flicked her wand to raise the flames.  
  
"Would you like anything to drink?" She asked softly, in the voice that Cassius and her Grandmother had taught her to use.  
  
"Brandy," he said with a dismissing hand gesture.  
  
She curtsied, even though he probably wouldn't see it, and went to the wet bar and fetched the best brandy and most delicate of snifters. She poured a healthy amount in, but not overmuch, and headed over to his chair. She kneeled down in front of him and offered him the glass, which he took with grace and delicately swirled before sipping.  
  
He was just as she thought, just the same as any man. They all wanted to be kings, and were blind to others faults when they were treated as such. He was like an over-spoiled cat. you only had to rub him the right way.  
  
"Dobby.dinner be ready m'am, sir." Said the stuttering house elf from the doorway.  
  
"If milord so pleases?"  
  
He looked at her raising an eyebrow at her as he downed the last of the brandy.  
  
"This crouched position does not suit you, does it Madam Malfoy? I've watched you at many of Cassius' pompous soirées, and thought you nothing more than another over bred high-strung pureblood trophy. A symbol for the decay in our ranks." He pulled her face closer to his pallid one, and she hesitantly met his eyes. "It was really rather clever, considering Cassius' liking for simple women, I suppose it had to have been a matter of survival." He smirked. "After receiving your missive, I soon pieced together that poor widowed Madam Malfoy must not be as distraught over her husband's death after all." He pulled back from her, a superior look claiming dominance on his face. "Her grief, undoubtedly, was reserved for her 'light', her infant child that was slaughtered by the aurors. However, Madam Malfoy wasn't foolish enough to think that her stepson wouldn't wish to quickly rid himself of her and secure the fortune for himself. So she demands a meeting with his master. which is why I am here today." He stood, and she swiftly joined him.  
  
"I do as you command." She said quietly.  
  
"You would like revenge, would you not, against those who butchered your Jairus?" He asked quietly, staring at her intensely as she met his eyes once more.  
  
"Yes." She said with vehemence that surprised her.  
  
"The you will go to Dumbledore, the sentimental old man would undoubtedly love to see the return of one of his bright academic stars that had been stolen from him before he could absorb her glory. For me you will watch occurrences at the school, and report back via floo."  
  
"Gladly, milord."  
  
"Welcome to the Death Eaters," He said with amiability, offering his hand which she kissed. "Now, let us dine. We Dark Lords must eat, anarchy is simply not sustaining."  
  
***(-I-)**(-I-)***  
  
He was sharper than she thought, and she knew she would have to be even more careful. He obviously was not as easily fooled as she previously contemplated. Even though, her infiltration was a success and now she only had to notify Dumbledore. Returning to her bedroom, she sat down to continue her schoolwork, only to abandon it as she realized that her hands were shaking..  
  
***(-I-)**(-I-)***  
  
She re-read her essay for the fifth time, before determining that she could do no better and handed it to the practically twinkling Dumbledore. He was so bloody pleased that she was taking this test. although she felt that if she were less jaded, she'd probably just as happy.  
  
"Now, as you know it will take awhile to receive your results, so shall we have tea until then?"  
  
She amazed herself by saying yes.  
  
***(-I-)**(-I-)***  
  
  
  
AN: Next chapter will be set in the SS/PS timeline. 


End file.
